The Missing Link
by CharlesTheBold
Summary: Joan and Luke have a special relationship with God; so did their aunts Olive and Maria. Why didn't it happen with Helen? PLEASE REVIEW
1. Off to College

**THE MISSING LINK**

_(Disclaimer: I have no business connection with JOAN. My only purpose in writing this story is to have fun and maybe share it)_

_(Author's Note: This story is part of a series that takes place in the year after the JOAN OF ARCADIA TV show ended. A listing of the other stories is on my profile. The main events that have happened since May 2005 are _

_(1) Joan has let Grace, Luke, and Adam into her secret _

_(2) Joan and Adam got married in June, 2006._

_(3) Joan, Adam, and Grace have graduated from high school. Luke was jumped a year and allowed to graduate with them._

_(4) Luke is going to Harvard, Joan and Adam to a nearby university, and Grace is working abroad._

_(5) Kevin and Sister Lily have been married for a year, and Lily is carrying their first child._

_This story starts in September, 2006, with flashbacks_)

_ ._

**Chapter 1 Off to College**

Joan and Adam were packing the car in the Girardi's driveway. Will and old Mr. Rove were working with them, and even Kevin helped out, carrying items on his lap as drove his wheelchair in and out. Helen and Lily were watching from inside, not because they thought helping Joan was men's work, but each had a specific reason. Lily was two months pregnant and reluctant to strain herself by lifting anything heavy. As for Helen, she kept tearing up at the thought of her "babies" going off to college. Luke had already set out for Harvard; now she was losing Joan -- and Adam, who was practically one of Helen's children.

"Baconia University," mused Lily. "Doesn't sound too kosher, does it? Does it attract many Jewish or Muslim students?"

Helen smiled, knowing that Lily was clowning to cheer her up. "It's named for Sir Francis Bacon, the renaissance man. Judge, writer, scientist. The university prides itself on excelling in several fields, even though it's small. Joan likes it because it has good law courses, and Adam can get a fine education in art there."

"And it's close by, just over the border into Pennsylvania," Lily added, obviously knowing more about the school than she had pretended. "Which means that they can come home almost anytime. They're not deserting you, Helen. They were a lot further away during the European trip."

"Oh, I know. It's just that this summer has been so full of transitions. Joan getting married, you having a baby. Aunt Olive passing away."

Lily nodded. "It's like the Shakespeare quote. 'Bless thyself, for thou lookst upon things dying, I on things newborn'. Spooky." She actually suited the action to the word, crossing herself as if she was still a nun.

"And the spookiest part is the kids finding that distant relation in Italy, just before she died."

"So exactly how was the lady related to us?" asked Lily, this time sounding genuinely puzzled. At the time of the event, Lily had been pre-occupied by a missed menstrual period and what it might imply.

"Her name was Maria Cavallo, and she had a brother. He apparently got tired of village life, so he started wandering around the world. Eventually he fell in love with my grandmother in North Carolina and decided to settle down with her. They had three children. One was my mother, and another was Aunt Olive. So it turns out we're part Italian on both sides."

It sounded so pedantic, like a geneologist's report. But as her cousin Jean Cavallo enjoyed remarking, "had" was a ridiculous tame word when you were talking about the experience of childbirth. And to Helen, other parts of the narrative were downright weird. Why had her grandfather decided to wander? Why did he never mention his origin in the Italian village? How did Joan manage to find her aunt precisely at the point of death? Helen suspected Joan knew more than she was willing to talk about, but she was reticent of questioning her daughter. Joan had witnessed two deaths in two years: first her friend Judith and now this aunt. It was not something that she would want to dwell on.

"So my kid will be part Italian as well," said Lily, whose mind had explored a completely different set of ideas. "I'll hafta figure the percentage sometime."

"I doubt it will matter to her, even when she's old enough. America is such a melting pot."

"She? You think it will be a girl?"

"What?" Helen had not been aware of using the feminine pronoun, and it would be awkward to explain why she had done so. But the fact of the matter was that she had had a dream a few days ago, in which Lily had already borne the child and was nursing her, and the sex was common knowledge. "Just guessing."

"They're coming in now," Lily commented, looking out the window.

Adam came first, looking physically tired out from the lifting, and socially awkward. He took Helen's hand. "Thanks, Mrs. G. For, uh, everything. The art lessons, and the advice, and the, um--"

"You can say 'love', Adam." She tugged on the hand and pulled him into an embrace. "I just know your professors can teach you a lot more than I could. Take care of Joan."

"Yeah, well, she's more likely to take care of me." Adam replied frankly, and he stepped over to say goodbye to his sister-in-law.

His wife seemed to determined not to be mushy. "Bye, Mom." Joan said, hugging her mother for a few seconds and then stepping back.

"Goodbye, Joan. Remember what I warned you about, about--"

Joan frowned as she realized what her mother was referring to. "I'm OK, Mom. I got through Europe, didn't I?" She turned quickly to Lily as if to cut the conversation short. "Ciao, Lily. Good luck with the baby."

"Thank you, Joan. God be with you."

"Yeah, no problem."

She followed her husband outside. Lily stared at the closed door; Joan's last comment had jolted her out of her mother-abbess mode. "Now what the hell did she mean by THAT?"

TBC


	2. Maid Not In Waiting

**THE MISSING LINK**

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Readers who have seen "JUST SAY NO" or "COMMON THREAD" will know why Helen is so nervous. For other readers, the explanation will come a few chapters away.)_

**_CHAPTER 2_**

**_Maid Not In Waiting_**

_That night, as she got ready for bed, Helen was struck by how quiet the house was. In particular, no Joan chattering away. It had also been the case while the Joan went on her honeymoon and later the younger kids were in Europe, of course, but those were temporary arrangements ending in the children's return, and this seemed permanent._

_Unbeknownst to her, Will had been thinking similar thoughts and going much further. "Dear, I've been thinking. Maybe we should move to a smaller dwelling now."_

_"Move?"_

_Will waved his hand to indicate the house in general. "It's too big for just the two of us. Take the bedrooms. Three empty kids' rooms on this floor, plus the room we converted downstairs for Aunt Olive. And it's not as if the house contained a lifetime of memories. We've just lived here three years."_

_"Maybe we shouldn't be hasty. The kids could come back, you know. I did."_

_"But that was --" Will began and then caught himself; that topic was taboo. "Well, we could wait and see." In a desperate attempt to change the subject, he said: "You know, there is an advantage to having all the children away. Nobody would hear us if we--"_

_"Not tonight, please, Will."_

_"All right. I suppose we'll just get to sleep." He turned out the light. Helen lay there, trying to remember her own first few days at college. Not the first time of course, but when she tried again at 19 --_

The new college campus looked lovely. That was one of the things that had appealed to Helen's parents as the family was shopping around for a new school. Appearance was important to Helen, too, because wasn't she dreaming of being an artist someday? But what was more important was they had checked into security and assured themselves that the grounds were well patrolled.

It was the end of September, and the campus was Southern enough to still be warm at this time of year. Some girls were still wearing halter tops, something Helen wouldn't do, not after --. She was dressed in a modest blouse and not-too-tight jeans.

Helen saw a low wall, about three feet tall, separating the History Building courtyard from the main campus. She sat down on it and got out her mother's letter again.

_Well, if you're not going to tell your room-mate, I wish that you'd at least confide in the Catholic chaplain. He would be bound by the confessional rules and the news will go no further. You must be able to unburden yourself._

Helen shook her head. That was Mom, still thinking that everything could be solved by magic words from the priest. But to Helen the words were just words, not to be compared to the terrible Deed--

"Can I sit here?" said a male voice.

Helen looked up to see a student of about her age, a little heavy-set but not athletic. She didn't want company, but after all the wall wasn't her property. She nodded.

He sat down and she returned to her thoughts. Maybe it WOULD be better to talk to her room-mate. Not because she really wanted Cathy to know, but the girl needed to understand why Helen was so uptight about safety. Besides, Helen still had nightmares, and Cathy might hear her talking in her sleep. She might as well know the whole story.

"What's your name?" asked the boy.

"Helen."

"It fits. 'Is this the face that launched a thousand ships--'"

"'And burnt the countless towers of Ilium'," Helen continued by reflex. She was taking early English drama, and apparently so was he. The quote was from Marlowe's DOCTOR FAUSTUS, the first great play of English literature..

"Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss'." The boy leaned toward her. This close, Helen realized that he had had a few beers. "That fits, too."

"Bugger off."

"Oh, come on. These are the 80's! Girls aren't supposed to be demure nowadays." Apparently he didn't know exactly what "bugger" meant. He touched her shoulder.

"I said, GO AWAY!" she shouted.

"Is this man bothering you, miss?" said a new voice. Helen turned to see a young man with a security badge. A New York style accent in his voice, and a body that was not at all fat but well-muscled.

"I was just flirting," the boy said.

"Well, the lady doesn't want flirting." Helen was a 1980's girl and it was the first time she had heard herself called a "lady", but she was relieved that the security guy was automatically taking her side. Lots of students would think that she was over-reacting, and she didn't want to explain herself. "Make yourself scarce."

"All right, all right." The boy slinked off.

"Thank you for your help," Helen told the security man.

"Just doing my job, miss."

--

After her final class, Helen set out for her dorm. Though the campus had some mixed dorms, this was an all-girl building. Helen wanted males at a distance when she settled down for the night. Of course some girls let their boyfriends in for a night, against the rules, but at least those boys were interested in one girl and knew better than to cause a fuss.

"Hey, Helen!" called a voice, just as Helen put her foot on the first step of the door. It was the boy from the wall.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"To apologize for getting out of line. Since we're both in the same English lit class, I thought I'd better clear the air. It won't happen again."

"OK, apology accepted," she said coldly.

"What are you doing here?" another familiar voice called out, and the security guard rushed up again. "Stop bothering the lady."

"Huh? Mind your own business!" said the boy.

"Protecting people is my business," said the guard. And he hit the boy so hard that he knocked him off his feet.

That got a huge amount of attention from the students hanging around the dorm. Helen knew the blow was utterly unjustified, given the boy's willingness to apologize to her. Other students may have ignored the conversation, but they were college students who were close enough to the 1960s to remember rhetoric about "police brutality". The girls gathered around in shock and amazement.

An older man with a security badge pressed his way through the crowd and looked down at the boy. Then he turned to the younger guard sternly. "That was way out of line. Come with me, Girardi."

TBC


	3. Bless This House

**THE MISSING LINK**

**Chapter 3 Bless This House**

When Helen awoke the next day, Will had already gone. He left a brief note saying that he had reason to go to the office early. That wasn't unusual, but it occurred to Helen that she was alone in the house.

That wasn't frightening; Will made sure that the house had the latest in protection devices. But it was eerie. After using the bathroom, Helen looked around at the empty bedrooms, then down the stairs at the large living-room area. Will was right; this area was much too large for two people.

What memories did it hold? The most vivid memory was a bitter-sweet one, and it had happened on the night of Luke's most recent birthday. Joan had been woken by an odd noise and discovered that Grace Polk, who was staying the night with her, was missing. She had told her parents and they went to Luke's room to warn him. There they found a nearly naked Grace, snuggled up against Luke in his bed, their pajamas scattered around the floor. Helen finally had to acknowledge that her "baby" was no longer a child. And then the Girardis had felt honor-bound to confess to the Polonskis that their daughter had lost her virginity while a guest in their house. Not something Helen particularly wanted to remember.

And Joan had fallen dangerously ill during their stay here, though her collapse had occurred at school, and she had recuperated away from home.

Still, Helen felt a desire to fight back against the moving-out idea. After having a lone breakfast and getting dressed, she drove to St. Francis Catholic Church, where Lily worked.

The church had gotten security-minded since Ryan Hunter's attack a year ago. Only one door was unlocked, and it was guarded by a formidable receptionist whom Helen didn't recognize. "Is Mrs. Girardi free?" asked Helen, considering how odd it was to refer to Lily by her own name. The receptionist let her by.

In the main corridor there were several pictures hanging, two of them from the extended Girardi family. Helen's _St. Joan above the Tumult was here_, with her daughter representing the saint. The sight of her daughter's face had new poignancy now that Joan was not there in the flesh. Across from it was Adam's _Impressions of Rome_, recently completed. It was a collage of various scenes from the Holy City, from the Fountain of the Rivers to copies of famous paintings. Lily, speaking privately to Helen, had thought it hilarious how Adam had positioned Bernini's famous obelisk to hide the painted Adam's loins, "using one phallic symbol to hide another". But to Helen it was a reminder that Adam, too, was gone, and was finding better art teachers than Helen had been.

She put the paintings out of her mind and headed toward Lily's office, where she counseled troubled visitors.

"Oh, Helen!" said the pregnant ex-nun. "Didn't know you were here. Business or pleasure?"

"Sort of a combination. I had an idea. Would you and Kevin like to move back into the house?"

"Move back?"

"The house is already designed to accommodate Kevin's wheelchair, you know. There will be more room for the baby. And you could save on rent."

"What brought this on?" asked Lily bluntly. "First time I've heard the idea. Though of course your younger kids have moved out--"

"Right. Will has already talked about moving to a smaller place. But if we can use the larger place--"

"Yeah, I see. I'll run it by Kevin."

"Thanks."

"But while you're here, I've got an offer of my own. Now that summer vacation is over, the church is starting a confirmation class. Care to join?"

It sounded casual, but there was a lot of history behind the question. Helen's first meeting with Lily had occurred two years ago, when Helen had considered a return to the church. But as the months passed and Will seemed hostile, her initial commitment had wavered. Of course, Lily was now here as a counterweight to Will. Helen told herself that she was not committing herself; that she could always drop out. "I'll give it a try."

That evening at dinner, with Lily and Kevin visiting, Will had some interesting news. It turned out that the early-morning departure had been for a private project of his own. He had been touch with archivists in the Italian government, following up Joan's discovery of an unknown branch of the family.

"There aren't a LOT of records on the Italian Cavalos. They were reclusive, and the Neapolitian government wasn't as nosy or efficient as modern governments are. But there was an interesting detail about how the Cavallos first arrived in the village. The first to appear were a Jewish widow, who called herself Khavaleh, and her young son. Apparently her husband had been killed in Russia, during the Napoleonic invasion."

"Khava is Hebrew for Eve," said Lily, who was expert on Biblical trivia.

"After a few years," Will went on, "she had herself and her son baptized, and Italianized her name as Cavallo. That's not really an elegant Italian name; it means "horse". It may have been more a matter of fitting in than religious conviction. But you see what that implies? Your grandfather had some Jewish ancestry."

"Meaning I do, and the kids, and Lily's baby," mused Helen. "The Polonskis might be interested to hear that. Who knows, we might be distant cousins through some ancestor in Eastern Europe."

"It might also explain the Cavallo's reclusiveness," Will went on. "Back then the Church put a lot of pressure on Jews to convert. Some might give in for show, and continue to practice Judaism in secret."

"It's a shameful part of church history," Lily admitted. "But fortunately we've evolved beyond it."

The effect of that reply on Will was surprising: belated realization that his statement might upset Lily. Wishing to change the subject, Helen intervened, "Kevin, has Lily told you about my invitation to come live here?"

"Here?" echoed Will, to whom this was news.

"Yeah, Lily told me about your offer," Kevin said. "Thanks, Mom. But I think moving out was an important step in my life. It proved to me that I can take care of myself."

"With a little help from me," Lily said sarcastically.

"Well, yes, of course," said Kevin.

"There's no 'of course' about it. You used to be dependent on your parents, now you need me to do things. Don't talk about independence as if I don't exist!"

"Hormones," Will muttered.

"I heard that!" Lily said. "Testosterone's a hormone too. And it makes men act crazier than any pregnant woman!"

"Sorry," said Will. "You're right. If you saw all the wildness I see everyday -- and you SHOULD stand up for yourself, Lily."

What a mess, thought Helen. Anxious for another change of subject, she said hastily, "How about you guys having a look at the Boat?"

That evening, as they were getting ready for bed, Helen announced: "Lily is starting a new confirmation class. I'm thinking of going."

"Okay."

"Okay? Just okay? You were a lot more vocal about religion last time I considered it."

"Your choice is your own, Helen. And I've learned to make fine distinctions," said Will. "I still think there's no God. And I despise the sort of religion that says 'I don't have to make an effort; God will protect me'. Or "I don't have to learn anything because my Bible and my confessor are enough to guide me'. Or 'flatter God with endless praise and He'll do what you want.' But that's not the sort of religion practiced by Lily or Father Ken, and it's not the sort that you'll follow. Their religion inspires them to help other people. So okay."

Helen looked at Will wonderingly. Even after years of marriage, he could be surprising. Even twenty-five years after they met--

TBC


	4. The Discovery of Evil

**THE MISSING LINK**

**Chapter 4**

**The Discovery of Evil**

They would not let Helen into the college security office, of course, so she waited outside to see what transpired. Eventually Girardi came out, with a glum expression and without his insignia.

"What happened?" asked Helen.

"What do you think?" asked the young guard. "Fired. Can't have security guards hit the students they're protecting." His tone of voice was odd, as if he were agreeing with his own discharge.

"Can you get another job?"

"Dunno. Of course some places may WANT a guard with a history of violence -- a nightclub bouncer, a bodyguard for some rich jerk who has stepped on people on his way up. Not my idea of an ideal job. I wanna PROTECT people."

"This is all my fault," confessed Helen.

"Nonsense. You didn't ask me to hit the guy. It was my bright idea. Now I suffer the consequences. The first consequence is, I gotta get off campus within half an hour. So if you'll excuse me--"

But Helen could not leave it at that. The next day included an English Lit class, the one place she knew that she could find Girardi's "victim". As it happened, the instructor gave a particularly interesting lecture.

"One underlying theme of the four great Shakespearean tragedies --Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, and Macbeth -- is what might be called the Discovery of Evil, which has devastating effects on the hero. Hamlet realizes that his parents' seemingly ideal marriage was betrayed by Gertrude's affair with Claudius, and he is disillusioned with society in its willingness to fawn before Claudius. Othello is distraught on learning that his beloved Desdemona may have betrayed him, though of course the real traitor is Iago. King Lear's England descends into savagery once Lear abdicates his royal responsibilities. Macbeth is tempted into greater and greater atrocities once his original crime succeeds."

"Does this imply some grand discovery of evil in Shakespeare's own life? If so, he is so reticent about it that we still don't know what it was. James Joyce thinks Shakespeare's wife may have betrayed him, others that he had idolized the Earl of Essex and was shocked at his execution. Either way the conventions of his time would have prevented him from making his anguish too explicit, for fear of being considered a cuckold or a traitor. But he could pour his anguish into his writing."

Helen was intrigued; she thought she undergone the Discovery of Evil in her own life. But she also scanned the students from her vantage point at the side of the lecture hall. There he was, a guy with a slight bruise on his face.

At the students poured out of the hall afterwards, she called out "Hey -- hey--"

He turned around in surprise.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know your name."

"Leslie M. Beaumont," he said. "My friends call me Beau."

_French for "handsome". Figures. Better than Leslie, which sounds like a girl, or Les, which sounds like, well, Less. _ "Well, Beau, there's a favor I'd like to ask. Could you ask the security people to go easier on that guard that, um--"

"What am I supposed to say? That he didn't hit me too hard?" he asked sarcastically. "And why would I do that?"

"Be- Because I'll go out with you if you do?" Helen said desperately.

Beau snorted. "You think I'm so desperate for a date that I'd accept a quid-pro-quo like that?" While the embarrassed Helen tried to think of an answer, he seemed to consider the question himself. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Meet me at seven at the student center. We're going to _Chez Andre._ And be sure to wear a dress; they consider jeans low-class."

"I'm sure I must have a couple stashed away somewhere," Helen said sarcastically. Though in fact she kept very good care of her clothes, and had brought a long gown to the college in case of emergency.

That afternoon, Helen prepared for her "date" by washing her hair, donning her gown, and putting on some makeup for the first time in a year and a half. And put a canister of self-defensive pepper spray in her purse.

_Chez Andre_ was indeed ritzy. Helen wondered how Beau could afford it, but considered that question out of bounds. Indeed, it was some time before either could think of something to say, given the situation that gave rise to their date.

Finally Helen said, "So are you planning to major in English Lit? You must like literature, since you knew the DOCTOR FAUSTUS quote from memory."

"Oh, I like it enough. But I'm going to major in business. You can't just fool around in college. You gotta prepare for the world out there, and a business degree will be a big advantage."

"You think so?" Helen said coldly. "I heard the President say the economy's improving a lot. A future of prosperity."

"Well, yeah, but you gotta grab the opportunities. We were born in the 60's, the wrong end of the baby boom. A lotta positions are already taken. My older brother made a mint; I don't know how he did it. It's gonna be more difficult for me, and he even worse for the artsy types with no business skills."

"I see," said Helen, who was planning to major in art history. "You think that applies to girls, too?"

"Well, if they plan to make it on their own, as the feminists say. Of course they can always marry somebody rich."

"Oh, sure, there are a lot of rich somebodies around."

"No, but -- oh, that was a joke. Haha."

"Haha." Helen attacked her food with irritation. "Look, let's stop trying to make small talk. We have a deal, right? Are you going to help Girardi?"

"Girardi?"

"The guy that hit you."

"Oh. Well, I don't think talking to University security will do much good. But my brother mentioned that he was opening a new plant in Longville, and needed some guards at night. I can ask him to employ Girardi, if you can give me assurances that he won't cause trouble again."

"I'm sure he won't."

"What's your interest in him, anyway? Is he your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend. I'm not interested in men at the m--"

His eyes went wide as he misunderstood her declaration. "Are you gay? The type that goes for other girls?"

"NO. I'm just not interested in sex right now. Let's eat."

They settled down to food, and Beaumont called for wine. Helen noticed that though she limited her intake, wanting to keep a clear head, Beaumont kept calling for more. And she recalled that he was somewhat drunk the first time she saw him. He had a weakness for alcohol.

"You know," he said finally, "It's too bad you're not interested in sex, because you're a very sexy girl."

"Thank you," said Helen, not happy with the comment but deciding to accept it as a compliment.

"Oh, you could do with some improvement, attract more guys," he said. He pointed a slightly wavering finger at her bosom. "For example, if you wore the neckline a bit lower, showed some cleavage--"

Helen, who had lifted her wineglass for a sip, decided instead to hurl its contents at her date.

"Arggggh! My best suit! Waiter! Waiter! Bring me some towels. _Bitch!"_

"Are you calling me a bitch?" demanded the waiter, evidently tired of fastidious French manners and misinterpreting the last exclamation. He picked up Beaumont's own wineglass and poured it on the customer's head. He probably forfeited his job by so doing, but Beau seemed to have that effect on some people.

Thus ended the Date from Hell.

TBC


	5. Questions and Answers

**THE MISSING LINK**

**Chapter 5**

**Questions and Answers**

"To know which questions are unanswerable, and to not answer them, that is the skill" -- Ursula K. Le Guin, LEFT HAND OF DARKNESS. 

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not Catholic (I am Methodist) and the lines I give Lily are my educated guess as to what a Catholic teacher might say in this situation. If somebody thinks I'm wrong, contact me and I'll change the story)_

An Email from Joan Girardi-Rove:

_Hi, Mom. Adam and I have settled in our new apartment, and as you can see, we've got a new Email account. Weird they won't let us live in dorms, when I hear of unmarried students living together all over the place, but for some reason married couples are poisona none grata (did I spell that right?). Anyway, the apartment is just a block from the campus._

_I was afraid of missing out on social life by not being in the dorms, but a friend told us where the action was, and it's an easy walk. _

_BTW, guess who I ran into? Elizabeth from Arcadia High! She said that role in the summer indie picture fell through when she told them she was too inhibited to act with her clothes off - remember last spring when she tried to pose in the altogether for Adam? -- so she's planning for a day job, and one that requires some college education. She may even pose some more for Adam. I'm cool with that._

_We were able to get the key courses we wanted. I'm taking a course on Commmon Law, and Adam got into Art History. Thanks to Ms. Lischak's AP classes we were able to exempt a lot of dull science courses (but don't tell Luke I said that). _

So it sounded like Joan and Adam were happy with their college. Helen wondered who the "friend" was who advised them on partying -- to her knowledge Elizabeth was the only other student from Arcadia High who chose Baconia. Maybe an older student. Helen just had to acknowledge that she couldn't micromanage Joan's life away from home. Better to focus on her own affairs.

First day of Lily's confirmation class was today.

As she drove to the church, Helen gave one last thought to Leslie M. Beaumont. She had thought she was finished with him after that date, but by an odd coincidence she met his son twenty years later, when he got put in charge of the school annual and Helen was the artistic advisor. Like his father, he seemed to have some genuine talent and skill, but subordinated it to a general desire to impress people and get ahead. The following year Helen had heard that his uncle, the brother that had so awed Beau, had gotten convicted of elaborate stock fraud. All in all it made Helen proud of her own family. In spite of crises like Kevin's accident, none of her kids had grown up to be jerks or worse.

Lily's catechism class was being held in one of the adult Sunday-school rooms. Most of the class was standard confirmation age; a few were older. There was only one adult near Helen's age, a small man who said nothing. Helen was somewhat startled to see that one of the older teenagers was Bonnie McLean, whose life had collided with the Girardis' on at least two occasions, one good, one bad. She was the one who had tried to steal Adam from Joan, initiating him into sex. Yet more recently she had defended Lily against a nasty rumor, shaming gossipers into silence.

Lily was dressed in a loose blouse and jeans, a decidedly non-intimidating look. She gave no sign that Helen was her mother-in-law, letting Helen be an anonymous member of the class.

"In coming weeks, I'll explain church doctrine," announced Lily. "But today I want to do something different. I want you to ask anything that bothers you about the Church. Think of me as a mother-confessor: I won't repeat anything or record anything. And I put the rest of you on your honor to protect each other's privacy. Yes?"

"Why does the church hate sex?" asked an older girl forthrightly. The younger confirmands giggled.

"It doesn't," said Lily, "and I'm an example. I'm having a baby, and you can't have one without the other, unless you're the Virgin Mary." Everyone laughed at that comment.

"But to be an important church official, you have to give it up," a boy said.

"Yes, but it's considered a sacrifice of a good, not an avoidance of evil. When you give up some food for Lent, it's not because food is evil, but self-control is good. More positively, the idea is that the clergy can concentrate more on their members in general if they avoid personal attachments. As Francis Bacon once said, you can't fill a pool when you're watering your lawn." Everyone laugh some more. "As for the laity, the worry is that sex is not evil but amoral, POWERFUL, and should be constrained by rules."

"I can agree with that," said Bonnie unexpectedly. "I used to chase after boys all the time, and I ended up having a baby at seventeen."

"Why isn't the Church more democratic?" asked a solemn-looking boy who reminded Helen of Luke. "I mean, the Pope appoints Cardinals, the Cardinals elect the Pope, and we're left out of the loop."

"Democracy is based on a philosophical assumption, that whatever policy the majority favors is the right policy. _Vox populi, vox dei. _But the Church considers itself the guardian of an Idea, that can't be voted up or down. Science isn't governed by votes either."

"But it IS verifiable," said the boy. "While your 'Idea' isn't."

"No, but the average man or woman has a choice. Whether to accept the Idea or not--"

Helen lost track of that thread; she had her own ideas to focus on. When the discussion petered out, she spoke up. "Why does God let innocent people suffer?"

Silence in the room.

"I-- I don't know," said Lily. "People have been asking that for centuries, the most important example being Dostoievsky's LEGEND OF THE GRAND INQUISITOR. You just have to take it on faith that there's a divine plan."

"But I DON'T have to take it on faith," said Helen. "Weren't you talking just now about a choice?"

Another awkward silence and one of the confirmands asked, as if the discussion was over: "What is the Church's position on current issues?"

Lily seized on that question eagerly, and Helen lost interest in the proceeds. Eventually the class broke up, but Lily signaled that she wanted Helen to stay. Maybe she had some family matter to discuss, out of the hearing of her students.

With the room free, Lily demanded: "WHY did you put me on the spot like that?"

"I--"

"You did the same thing to Father Ken three years ago! The exact same question!"

"I didn't put the two of you on the spot on purpose, Lily! I'm asking the question because it's important to me. I have an, an instinct that God exists, that he is good and powerful. But I can't square that with why innocent people suffer, and until I do, I can't accept the idea of worshipping him. Haven't you ever wondered about suffering?"

"Of course I have! I have a husband who'll never walk again!" protested Lily. "You gotta have faith that there's a reason."

"I don't 'gotta' have anything. Faith has to be earned, like I have faith in Will. What's the difference between blind faith and gullibility?"

"You said you had an instinct about God; why can't you trust it?"

"The instinct may be wrong. Will doesn't have it. I don't think the kids have it, except maybe Joan. I've never figured out what she thinks about God; she's very private about that, no matter how much she talks about everything else."

"Because she'll get slapped down if she says she believes the stuff her parents don't?"

"We'd never slap--"

"I'm talking metaphorically!"

"Is something wrong?" Father Ken's voice said suddenly. The priest was looking in at the door. At first Helen thought he was being very nosy, then realized that that wasn't fair. He had a loving disposition and a dislike of confrontation, and of course he loved Lily, in a spiritual sort of way.

"Family matters," said Helen. "We'll take this home."

"OK. But remember, arguments should be based on reason, not emotion."

Lily sat silent until her mentor left. Then she said quietly, "YOUR home."

"What--?"

"I don't think Kevin and I should move in. We'd argue too much."

Suddenly Helen's mind went to the other big question in her life: whether she and her husband should continue living in the big house alone. If nobody moved in, Helen may have to move out. "Is that a way of getting me to agree--"

"It's just fact. You have your views, I've got mine, and we both feel passionately about them. We need space."

Helen sighed, realizing that Lily was right. But two people of vastly different personalities could come to an understanding. For example, herself and a certain young guard, twenty-five years ago--

TBC


	6. Revelation

**THE MISSING LINK**

**Chapter 6**

**REVELATION**

"Hello," said the voice on the phone. "This is William Girardi."

"Hi," said Helen.

"I've gotten a new job as a security guard, at a factory in Longville. It seems like I have you to thank for it."

"Leslie Beaumont arranged it, actually." So Beaumont had kept his promise, in spite of Helen throwing the wine at him.

"Doesn't make sense, that the guy I slugged would want to give me another job out of the goodness of his heart. I deduce that you were involved."

"You'll make a good detective someday."

"I'd like to thank you in person, but I'm afraid my work hours won't allow it. 7AM to 7PM shift."

"I could come up," Helen blurted out. A second later she was astonished at herself. Why had she made such an offer?

"Could you? I could take you to a local diner. Nothing fancy, I'm afraid, because--"

Because his job situation was shaky and probably didn't pay that much to begin with. But no need to embarrass him by making spell that out. "I understand," said Helen, losing her best chance to back out of the meeting. "Let me check the bus schedule. I think Longville's on the commuter line to the big city--"

Getting transport information in 1982 was by no means as easy it would be two decades later, with the vast resources of the Internet available at the click of a mouse button. But Helen persevered and obtained a schedule.

"So you made it," said Girardi a few days later. They were sitting at a diner a block from Longville's bus stop. Girardi had explained that he was temporarily renting a motel room nearby and was looking for a permanent flat. For obvious reasons, he didn't invite Helen to the motel.

"The schedule clicked amazingly well," said Helen. "Arrived here at 6:30, and it'll pick up going the other way at 9:00."

"Still, you'll be late getting home. Do you have church services to attend tomorrow?"

"I don't go anymore," said Helen.

"Neither do I. I was an altar-boy when I was younger, but it didn't last. You know what the real definitive episode of my life was? I was at school, and I saw a big boy picking on a little boy. It occurred to me that I was even bigger, and could give the bully a taste of his own medicine. But the principal saw me, and hauled me off to his office."

"What happened then, Mr. Girardi?"

"Call me Will. At first he wanted to expel me for brawling, but some teachers had seen the incident and assured him that I was protecting another kid. So he let me off with a lecture. About how might doesn't make right, that you had to have rules. At that point I decided that I would become a policeman some day, protecting people the right way. My father was a cop, but I didn't really understand law enforcement until that day."

Helen, feeling some equal confidence was required of her, chatted about attending a Catholic parochial school. Her telling made it plain that she no longer believed in the spiritual side of her education, though she was careful not to say why. That spurred another revelation from Will Girardi.

"My Dad left my Mom and me when I was 6, married another woman. The Church refused to recognize the divorce, but he didn't care. And when I saw how prosperous he was and how miserable my mother was, I stopped caring too. The wicked -- well, maybe that's overdoing it a bit, but I know that if I ever married I'd never betray my wife. Anyway, the wicked were prospering and the good were suffering, and God was doing nothing about it. Maybe He didn't care either, or maybe He just didn't exist -- does that idea shock you?"

"No. Though I don't quite agree--"

A few minutes later, Girardi's glance wandered toward the wall. "Oh, hell! It's 8 minutes to 9. Helen, your bus--!"

She had lost track of the time. They hastily settled the bill, dashed out of the diner, and did their best to jog to the bus stop. A red-light on an intervening, busy street delayed them, but they ran the instant it turned green.

The pair stared in dismay as the bus pulled out of the lot onto the highway.

"I'm sorry," said Girardi. "I'll rent a car and drive you back to the college."

"Where's a rent-a-car place?"

Girardi did not know. After all, he was new to the town.

Helen got the bus schedule from her purse. "Next bus, 9:00 tomorrow. I'll just rent a room at your motel."

"You shouldn't have to spend extra money for my sake. You can spend the night with me."

Helen glared.

"Sorry," Girardi said. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. There are two beds in the motel room; you can use the spare. I'll respect your privacy as much as I can."

"Well -- OK."

It was awkward but seemed workable. The motel room was quite generic: central room dominated by twin beds, with a small bathroom attached. Helen naturally had no change of clothes; she would have to sleep in her jeans and blouse. Girardi did of course have nightwear, but instinct told him not to change into it with Helen there, so he got in his bed with the guard uniform still on. Helen made a phone call to her roommate telling her not to worry about her absence, then got in the second bed.

A few hours later she was awakened by footsteps, and sprang to instant alertness. "Who's there?"

"It's just me," said a male voice.

"Don't come near me!" she shouted.

"I won't. I was just going to the bathroom. As long as we're both awake, let me get a light on--."

A lamp on the far side of the other bed came on, revealing Girardi next to it. "See, I'm keeping my distance, as I promised -- Helen? What's wrong? You're shaking like a leaf! Are you ill? Should I call a doctor?"

"No. I -- I -- " She took a deep breath. "I've been raped."

Girardi looked horrified and shocked nearly speechless. "What-- how--."

"A year ago -- another college -- some man broke into my dorm room and --" she started crying.

"You don't need to talk about it." Light seemed to break on him. "And having another man in your room is bringing back all the memories. I'll go, leave you alone."

"No! I trust you. It was a panic attack. And maybe talking about it will help--"

"Did they ever catch the guy?"

"No. I couldn't give a description. Too dark, and I was too stunned. The security and police did the best they could. Got a sympathetic lady cop to stay with me, and they gave me some new treatment so I wouldn't get pregnant."

"I hear there's new DNA research going on, to trace a rapist from his, um-- but that's no consolation now."

"I pulled out of the college, stayed at home nearly a year to get over it. Thought I'd start over now, with a new college. Nobody knows but some officials at the previous school, and my family, and now you. I haven't even told my roommate yet."

"That's the worst," declared Girardi. "You're a victim, with nothing to feel guilty about, but YOU feel shamed. Feel you have to hide something. While that animal--" he broke off again. He clearly did not know what to do. He took a few steps around the bed, then hesitated.

"It's all right to walk up to me. As I said, I trust you."

Girardi circled the bed and sat next to Helen. "I wish I could protect you. But you're at the university and I'm in Longville--

"It's all right, Will. I've learned to take protective measures, and I have University Security and the police. But I appreciate the sentiment. You're a very good man, Will." She added more as a revelation to herself than to Girardi: "There are good men in the world."

TBC


	7. Truth, and Consequences

**THE MISSING LINK**

**Chapter 7**

**Truth, and Consequences**

Twenty-four years later, Will and Helen were again sitting on a bed, in vastly different circumstances. Far from fearing contact, Helen was wearing a low-cut nightgown as a hint for her wishes for the night. After all, the kids were all away and they were alone. Will's current attention, however, was on a brochure for a nearby apartment complex.

"Here's a nice one," he said. "Good location, swimming pool, tennis courts, security at the gates. What do you think?"

Helen glanced at it and gave a six-word answer. "Where would you put the Boat?"

Will thought about that and threw the brochure in the wastebasket.

DING-DONG.

The couple froze for a second. People rarely visited them this late, and on at least one occasion an angry stalker had followed Will home and tried to shoot Joan. But an attacker would scarcely ring the doorbell politely. Will went to Luke's old bedroom, which gave him a view of the front yard.

"Two people and a wheelchair, probably Kevin and Lily. I'll let them in." He walked downstairs. Helen looked down at her decolletage and switched to a less revealing bathrobe before following her husband.

The younger couple did not remark on the delay as Will let them in; Kevin at least understood the reasons for caution. He was sitting in his wheelchair looking somber, and Lily seemed agitated. Helen saw her groping in her jeans pocket for a cigarette that wasn't there; Lily had given them up a year ago but sometimes reverted to old tics when she was upset.

"Helen and I need to talk," she said. "Could you guys go work on the boat or something?"

Father and son exchanged a glance and walked out toward the back, in spite of the fact that Will was still wearing his robe. Lily sat down on the family sofa.

"Is something wrong with the baby?" asked Helen in concern. "Something you don't want to discuss with men?"

"No, no, the baby's OK." Lily reached for another phantom cigarette and sighed when she realized what she was doing. Finally she said: "Kevin told me what happened to you, twenty-five years ago."

"I told him not to!"

"Yeah. And he's obeyed you all this time. But when I told him about today's argument, he thought it was important for me to know where you were coming from." Lily looked up at her mother-in-law. "I understand now, that this is not just an academic matter; that you really have suffered. I came to apologize."

"Don't worry about that. But you may not have heard the entire story. Did Kevin mention what happened a year ago?"

"No."

"I had long given up any hope of clearing up the mystery of WHO did it. But last year I got a call from a priest, who operated at hospice for the dying. One of his patients confessed to him that he had raped a college freshman in 1981, and that he had felt sufficiently guilty, or obsessed, to keep track of her. He wanted to ask my forgiveness before he died."

"Well, I went, and I gave him hell, and told him he deserved a lot more of the same. Confessing when you're too sick to go to prison, that was the cheap way out. But afterward I cooled and thought, well, maybe I should be polite to somebody in their last moments. So I went -- and he was dead. He died believing that I had cursed him."

"His family was there. They knew nothing of the rape. They thought he was the perfect husband and father. His little girl even said that she was sure he was in heaven now."

Lily winced.

"So where's the morality in all this?" Helen demanded. "He's a rapist and I was a victim. But he dies in the odor of sanctity, all absolved, and I end up feeling guilty because I didn't forgive sins."

"It doesn't work quite like that," said Lily awkwardly. "You did decide to offer forgiveness, and Fate, or God, deprived you of the opportunity. That's not your fault, you had the proper intent. Maybe God thought the man deserved to know what bitterness he had brought into your life. And in spite of what the little girl said, he wouldn't go to heaven immediately. According to Catholic doctrine, he'd go to Purgatory to expiate his sins. Including his massive sin against you."

"That's all very speculative."

They sat in silence for a while. Then Lily asked, in an odd voice, "Could you bring me something to drink? I'm feeding two, after all."

"OK." Helen went to the kitchen to fix some lemonade. When she stuck her head around the corner, Lily's head was in her hands, and she was crying. Helen had never seen Lily cry before. So that was the real reason she wanted Helen out of the living room.

You could call it hormones, but that was demeaning. Call it that Lily was at a stage where love between mother and daughter was very important, and she was very distressed over her mother-in-law's problems.

Helen withdrew her head and called out "Can't find the sugar -- ah, there it is," to account for her delay. By the time she came over with the glasses, Lily had dried her eyes and was trying to look Tough Gal.

"I'll keep up confirmation class." Helen announced.

"You will?"

"Yeah," said Helen hastily, not wanting to give the real reason, which was to cheer up Lily. "As I said, doubts point one way, but instinct another--"

She was saved from further explanation by the noisy entry of the men.

"Hi," Lily called out. "Finished the boat?"

"Well, not exactly," said Kevin.

"Finished for the night, I hope," said Lily. She joined Kevin as he directed as wheelchair toward the front door. "Darling, I've been thinking, maybe we should come here to live. If I get down with morning sickness, or have to restrict my activities, we may need other hands around the house--" The door shut behind them and cut off further discussion.

As the older Giardi couple got back in bed a few minutes later, Will asked lightly, "What did Lily want to talk about?"

"Oh, girl talk. Side effects of pregnancy and how I dealt with them. Males never want to hear about those--"

Predictably, Will didn't. "Sounds like Lily's thinking about moving in. Four of us here, it won't seem so empty, so there's no point in moving elsewhere."

"Fine," Helen replied, trying not to show her relief.


	8. Epilogue: Theophany

**THE MISSING LINK**

**Epilogue **

**Theophany**

The interruption from the younger generation apparently killed off the notion of conjugal relations that night, and the pair soon fell asleep. Helen had a dream.

There was a big highway, full of cars. It seemed to be one-way, going on forever in the distance, and it was full of cars speeding along.

There was an old lady standing at the side of the road, looking at everybody go past. Helen walked up. "Can I help you across the road?" she asked politely, though in fact she didn't see a handy way to cross herself.

"That's very nice of you, my dear, but I don't help. I'm God."

"God," Helen repeated in confusion.

"I know what you're thinking," said the other. "Alzheimer's, I better find out who's taking care of her. But I really am God. I know what else you've been thinking about. You had a long discussion with Lily this evening, and decided to stick with her class to humor her, even though you still have doubts."

"Are you annoyed about that?" Helen asked nervously. Could this really be--?

"Not at all," said Old Lady God. "That's what I told Luke and his girlfriend a year ago. Skepticism drives somebody to search more deeply for the truth."

"You've talked to Luke and Grace?"

"And Joan. She was the first of her generation."

"Generation?"

"I've worked with your family for centuries, Helen. Mostly the women, though occasionally I find a sensitive boy like Luke. If you remember your Bible, Israel was once ruled by a female prophet named Deborah. She was your distant ancestor. Some of your other ancestors are in there, too, but right now I want to focus on modern times. You don't remember me, do you?"

"Should I?"

"I appeared to you in a dream when you were in college. But you were still bitter then, and you dismissed me as s bizarre fantasy. And your mother was a little too conventional to believe in dreams. Preferred to rely on her priest as intermediary between herself and Me. But Joan came through."

"Came through WHAT?"

"For three years, Joan has been going on little missions for Me. Things I can't do Myself--"

"Aren't you omnipotent?"

"As I was about to say, things I can't do Myself without violating human freedom. Joan and the others are willing to sacrifice their free will, or rather bring their wills in alignment with Mine. Some of the time, anyway. Do you want to go and do likewise?"

"What sort of mission are you talking about it?"

"There's a woman in trouble. She can be reached at cathyx at heavenlink dot com. Offer your help."

"What sort of help?"

"You'll find out."

"Oh, no, I'm not going to drift into a situation that blindly. If you won't answer that, answer this: why did you let that man rape me twenty-five years ago? You're omnipotent, are you?"

"Human freedom--"

"Bulls-- " Helen caught herself before finishing the curse. This "God" seemed nice, but Helen did not know the consequences of cursing a divine proclamation. "Taking away an authority doesn't create freedom. It creates 'might makes right'. He had the greater strength, and I wasn't free to do anything."

"Then you appreciate the idea of a supreme Authority."

"Not just any authority. One that deserves the power."

"Very well." Old Lady God pointed out the cars on the highway. "That's the rest of humanity, hurtling into the future without guidance. You have a chance to stand aside and work for a different destiny."

"No."

"So be it. Goodbye, Helen."

She walked off, and though she seemed slow, Helen found her impossible to follow. "Wait a minute. Wait--"

She thrust herself forward, and found herself sitting in bed.

"Honey, what's wrong?" asked Will.

"Crazy dream. I have them from time to time. About Joan being a modern-day prophetess or something."

"That IS crazy. Better get it out of your mind."

"Right." Helen settled back into the pillows again. And yet the dream did not go away, as most dreams did. Helen remembered every detail, right down to the dot-com address that the Old Lady God had given her.

A woman in trouble. That could mean a lot of things. In her parents' time it usually meant an out-of-wedlock pregnancy. It could mean that a woman had, like Helen, been victimized, but had not had anybody to turn to.

Will was snoring away. Helen slipped out of bed and into Luke's old room, where their computer was. She told herself that she was doing this for Cathy X, not for a mysterious deity.

_TO: cathyx at heavenlink dot com._

_I hear that you need some help--_

THE END


End file.
